


You Always Have a Chance with Me

by ScreamingAtTheSky



Category: Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScreamingAtTheSky/pseuds/ScreamingAtTheSky
Summary: (I am new to fan fiction, so I believe this is called a canon divergence.)It is Veronica's second year of college and she is still at Hearst. She has not spoken to Logan since the end of last year when she told him he was out of her life forever. Of course, "out of your life" and "out of your mind" are two very different things, so when she has a chance encounter with him at the Hearst Library and he asks her to come out with him that night as "friends", she has to say yes. But are things ever really over between Logan and Veronica? (Spoiler Alert: No. They're not.)Enjoy!
Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars
Comments: 137
Kudos: 101





	1. Chapter One

A sound rings through the quiet library on this Friday afternoon in October. It starts faint but grows louder as the seconds pass. She strains to hear it, something about it calling to her, pulling her toward it as if she is a puppet on a string. Without thinking, she moves closer to where the sound is coming from, abandoning her job of stacking books neatly on a wobbly cart in order to return them to their spots on the crowded shelves, a task that pales in comparison to the worthiness of this one. She follows the sound to the table behind the large stacks of reference books and then she hears it again. The sound takes her back in time and locks her into the present all at once. She wants to record it and play it again and again. She wants it to stop. She wants to know what she wants, but like most luxuries in life, that is something she can’t afford.

That sound though. A laugh. _His_ laugh. She’d know it anywhere. Deep and true, like whoever made him laugh had worked really hard for it. Short, because it wasn’t something he did often, laugh like he meant it, that is, from his gut. Smirk? Sure. Grin, even? Absolutely. Big and toothy like a little boy sometimes, sly and sexy like the cat that got the cream most other times. But an honest laugh from him was a rare occurrence, which was probably what made it so damn memorable. And beautiful.

Veronica drops the book she’d been clutching far too tightly - _Capitalism in 20th Century America_ \- right there on the floor of the Hearst College library. The resounding sound echoes through the room, causing many students to jump and a few to snicker as every pair of eyes from every table focuses on her. There’s only one pair that makes her heart skip a beat though. Only one pair that looks like chocolate pools with flecks of gold. One pair that makes her pulse quicken and her breath catch and her cheeks redden as he meets her gaze and holds onto it like it’s the hand of an old friend.

_Way to not draw attention to yourself, Veronica._

She hasn’t seen or spoken to Logan Echolls in months. Logan. Her boyfriend. Her ex-boyfriend. Her one true love. Her arch nemesis. Her saving grace. Her tormentor. He’d been everything to her at times, and nothing to her just as often. Well, that wasn’t true, and she knew it. Even in their worst moments, when the chasm between them felt too wide to ever cross, he’d never been nothing to her, and it scared her to admit she didn’t think he ever could be. He’d always been there, in the back of her mind, from the early years of high school when he was her adorable friend and her best friend Lily’s boyfriend, to later, after Lily’s tragic murder when he was her enemy, taking all of his anger and despair out on her, to even later that same year when he lost his own mother and cried in her arms, risked his own life to save her when she was in danger, kissed her with an attraction and a hunger she’d only ever read about but certainly never felt. And there still when the relationship that kiss led to went up in flames, there to throw metaphorical daggers at her with his words and his eyes as they began their senior year of high school and she attempted to find love with someone else, there to rescue her when she almost lost her life at the hands of a murderous psychopath on the roof of the Neptune Grand as that year came to a close. And finally, he was there to enter college with her and stand by her side as her rekindled love, the flame that had never actually extinguished, her intellectual equal, her sexual awakening, her tortured hero, only to throw all of that away after spending one night of passion (at least it was passionate in her worst nightmares, anyway) with her greatest enemy, an act she could not and would not forgive. Even when, months later, he defended her honor once again, attacking a dangerous older student with deep connections to the Russian mob after that student took a video of her in a precarious position with her boyfriend at the time, Piz, and distributed it without her knowledge, she still could not release thoughts of Logan and Madison, the worst person Veronica could think of, real or imagined, locked in an embrace, his fingertips caressing her skin, his lips on hers...the image still made her sick. Yes, through all of that, he’s been there, toying with her, challenging her, turning every fleeting thought of comfort and serenity on its head. Logan was never easy, together or not. Much like the waves he loved to surf, their relationship was choppy, with the lowest, most gut-wrenching troughs and the highest, most magnificent crests she’d ever experienced. He was never boring. Even now, staring at him for ten seconds (or ten minutes, time ceased to exist when Logan was concerned, after all) has elicited more of a response through her nervous system than months with any other guy.

She forces herself to snap to attention with a quick shake of her head. The mystery is solved. She knows where the sound was coming from, knows it’s her ex she hasn’t spoken to since last May. She can move on now. She bends, hastily grabs the large book she dropped, turns on her heels and returns to her post at the information desk, equally hopeful that Logan will follow her and yet leave her completely alone.

“Doing some light reading?”

So, he has chosen to follow her. She wishes she could just be disappointed, emit an air of minor annoyance at his interruption of her imperative task of organizing the book returns, but with Logan, the passion inside of her burns so strong that not engaging is _never_ an option.

“You know me, there’s nothing I like more than studying up on money.” She waves the book back and forth in front of him before resting it on top of the pile. That’s not where it goes, of course - she likes to organize the books on the cart first, both alphabetically and by section in which they belong, before she returns them to the stacks, but concentrating on a menial task is not something she can manage when Logan is this close to her.

Plus, why did he have to look so good? His honey brown hair had grown out a little and there was the slightest hint of stubble on his face. He was wider than ever before, muscular arms encased in his deep green Henley, sleeves hanging over his hands, just a hair too long, legs long and lean in dark jeans. But the eyes were the same - mischievous and knowing, like they could look right past her bullshit blue ones and straight into her soul. She hopes they can’t sense what she’s thinking right now though as she plays with her wavy blonde hair, tucking it behind her ear over and over, wishing that she’d thrown some gloss on her lips, or worn something other than jeans, a tank top, and blazer - again.

“You look good, Mars.” But he can sense her insecurities, of course, and so he plays on them. She knows he finds her attractive, that certainly had never been a problem they’d had during any iteration of their relationship, but she can’t tell if he is mocking her for not looking her best or trying to be sincere. “But that’s no surprise. You always do.”

_Sincere it is._

“Thank you. You look...” her voice trails off as she searches for the right word. The first that comes to mind is strong - but that will play too much into Logan’s ego and an ego boost is the last thing his healthy sense of self needs. Then she thinks to say fit, but that sounds too detached, like something an aunt might say to her jacked nephew. _What else is there? Healthy? Happy? Completely fine without me? Not gonna happen._ So she settles on, “...good, too” and regrets it immediately. The space between her words, the faltering, the lame word choice. He knows. He knows how good she thinks he looks and that can only be a problem.

“So... how are you?”

She is shocked that he is only giving her a meaningful stare from under thick, long lashes that frankly should be illegal. No snark. No quips. He is letting everything that just passed between them slide, so she decides to roll with this reprieve and not bait him or try to get a rise out of him like she would have in the past. 

__

Maybe he’s maturing. Maybe I am, too. It’s about time - for both of us.

“Oh, just living it up at the library.” She moves her hand out in front of her sarcastically and rolls her eyes, indicating just how not riveting life at the library is.

“Just glad to see you’re not pining away for me.”

“You know I pine for no man.”

__

Guess we both couldn’t resist just one more quip.

“How are you? Did you have a good summer?”

_Did you spend it thinking about me? Did you meet someone new? Do you still care about me? Have you forgiven me for basically pushing you out of my life?_ So many questions she’d rather ask than the ones she landed on.

“Oh yeah, it was fine. I couldn’t take that surf trip with Dick like I wanted to, but you know, I just surfed here, drank too much, general debauchery. The usual.”

She can’t help but return his smirk. She knows all too well the trouble Logan can get himself into when he seeks it out (especially when he’s with his best friend, the ever-nefarious Dick Casablancas), and sometimes even when he doesn’t. In that way, they were cut from the same cloth. She always found herself in dangerous situations, almost always linked to her work as a private investigator. It all started when her dad, Keith Mars, was removed as the sheriff of their hometown of Neptune and started his own PI firm as a result. She’d been immediately attracted to the excitement, the intrigue, the thrill of tracking down a mark, watching a client’s questions get answered. Of course, along the way she’d seen some terrible things, people’s darkest secrets unearthed, the worst of humanity on display - cheating, stealing, raping, killing - but still, her quest for the truth won out every time, forcing her back into this seedy world over and over. That was, until, her investigative actions hurt the one person she loved above all others, including herself, the person who stayed when her mother abandoned her at the impressionable age of fifteen - her father. Her antics cost him the one thing he had always craved - being the sheriff of Neptune once more. So, she gave it up. Cold turkey. Ripped the band-aid off and never looked back. Until right now.

“I have to say, Veronica. I’m kind of surprised you still work here. Doesn’t this take away from your whole badass PI vibe or cut into stakeout time? It’s a little...pedestrian for you, don’t you think?”

She scoffs. Where did he get off? Acting like he knew anything about her anymore? Alright, fine, there was a time he knew her better than anyone. A time when he could play her mind and her body like a fine-tuned instrument. But that was long before he broke her heart into a million pieces. Long before she’d started dating Piz. Long before she’d completed that summer internship with the FBI, one she enjoyed, if mostly for the fact that it helped her figure out something very important - a life of legal crime-fighting, with its red tape and rule books, was not for her. Anyway, this new and improved Veronica, he doesn’t know _her_ at all.

“Actually, I don’t do that anymore.”

She does a silent cheer at the look of utter shock and confusion that crosses Logan’s face in response to her words. 

“I’m sorry, you don’t do that anymore? I don’t understand, it’s who you are. You put a GPS tracker on my phone for Christ’s sake.”

“Well, people change, Logan. I realized that what I was doing was hurting too many people. It was...dangerous.” She shrugs, diverting his comment about her indiscretions (whatever happened to all’s fair in love and war?), again attempting nonchalance and doing a little better this time.

“But you _like_ the danger.”

_Alright. So maybe there is a part of Logan that will always know me._

“So glad you figured all this out once I was kicked out of your life.” The sarcasm drips out of every word as it leaves his mouth and, for the first time since their conversation started, she’s seeing a glimpse of the Logan she knows - harsh, biting, a little vengeful. “What does Piz have to say about all this?”

“I wouldn’t know. It’s not his business. We’re not together anymore.”

She crosses her arms across her chest to steel herself in this moment. There are so many awful things Logan can say to her right now, so many different versions of “I Told You So,” and, if she’s being honest, she’d welcome them. The normalcy of this conversation so far is almost too much for her to bear. That sliver of Logan’s fire had lit a spark in her, and she wanted to watch this whole place go up in flames with him. If there’s one thing that they were good at when they were together and apart, it was fighting. Wars of words were their comfort zones. The verbal sparring always revved them both up - they could take what the other could give and then come back even harder. The only thing they were better at than fighting was, well, making up.

“Oh.”

_Well, that was disappointing._

“That’s all you have to say - ‘oh’? Have I finally left Logan Echolls speechless?”

“Me? No. Just trying to do some quick math in my head to see if I won the pool. I had you guys lasting two months.”

_Ok, this is more like it. Hit him where it hurts, Veronica._

“Well then, as usual, you were premature.”

“We both know that’s not a problem I’ve ever had.”

He winks at her and a surge of electricity shoots through Veronica’s body unlike anything she has ever felt before. He’s right, of course, the boy could teach a master class in satisfying a woman, but that’s not all she’s thinking about right now. It’s about 80%, for sure, but the other twenty is thinking that, try as she might to ignore it or pretend, she’s been exaggerating it when he’s not in her presence, the spark with Logan is ever-present and undeniable. Since giving up detective work and trying to live a “normal” life, she’s felt empty, lethargic, lifeless. _This_ is what she’d been missing, craving. This back-and-forth, this battle of wits with a worthy opponent. She misses this. She misses _him._

“Honestly, I don’t remember much of anything at all. You’ll have to ask one of your other conquests.”

“My _conquests?_ What am I, a pirate king?”

“You wish.”

“Hm. Role play was always more your kink than mine.”

This walk down memory lane is more than Veronica can take. Every word out of his mouth is sending shockwaves down her spine. She’s not sure how much longer she can keep up this shield of apathy and bravado. She wants him to make her angry, she wants the upper hand. She could defeat Logan with words. She could put him in his place by taking her usual position on the moral high road. But this? Sexual innuendo and whispered tones and standing just a hair too close to someone for what is considered societally appropriate? He always has the power in situations like these. And when you’re dating, that’s freeing and sexy and it makes you feel like a goddess. When you’re not dating, it makes you feel trapped and powerless and a little afraid.

_Time to take the control back, Veronica. Before you bring him up to the dark, lonely third floor again..._

Pushing the memory of a previous time they’d “made up” in this very library from her mind, the one she lets in in her most private moments, she says, “Well Logan, this has been fun, but I don’t want to keep you from your study group.”

She gestures toward the table he’d been sitting at earlier and turns her body away from his to face the books she’s stacking on the cart. Not her best work, but surely nothing sends the universal symbol of “this conversation is over” better than showing your back to the person you’re trying not to talk to. As usual, Logan is undeterred. He can tell he’s getting to her and that brings something out in him that is almost always sure to end badly.

“Come on Veronica. I just want to talk to you. I miss you.” He takes a strand of her hair between his fingers and twirls it - his touch is not sexual, it’s protective and forlorn. She wishes it was sexual - that she could at least pretend to deal with. But this? Seeing him sad? It’s soul-crushing.

_Vulnerable Logan. Perhaps even more of a rare sighting than his laugh. Don’t give in to it, Veronica. This is a rabbit hole you can’t get out of once you climb down._

She sighs as she turns back to face him once again, lightly brushing his hand away. “You _miss_ me? You can do better than that, Logan.”

The smile that breaks out across his face is so bright and adorable it makes her knees weak. He is truthfully the most handsome man she has ever seen and, for once, it doesn’t matter if he knows it too. She wants to run her fingers along his cheek. She wants to trace the veins in his neck. She wants to kiss him and feel him respond to her like he always used to. And seriously, if he’s trying to discourage her from having these kinds of thoughts, he shouldn’t be looking at her like that. 

_Because, honestly, if you’re going to be trapped in an uncomfortable, smelly rabbit hole, who better to be down there with?_

“Fine, you got me. I’m bored. I forgot how much studying sucks. It’s been awhile since I buckled down.”

“You sounded like you were having _plenty_ of fun.”

She can’t keep the biting tone out of her voice even though she tries. For all his talk of boredom and missing her, Logan had seemed fine just moments ago, laughing along with the table of his (mostly female) study partners. Veronica has to admit, she didn’t think there would ever be a time it would come easy to see him having fun and enjoying his life with someone other than her. She would never be indifferent to him, that was for sure.

His smile gets wider, _wider_ , as he sees the jealous side come out in her. He had things he couldn’t hide too. And as much as Logan tried to act like Veronica’s fears about his faithfulness were unfounded and upsetting, she knew he loved it when she tried to stake her claim on him and it turned him on like nothing else when she let her fiery, possessive side show. Of course, that’s back when they were together. Why he still liked it now, she wasn’t quite ready to think about.

“Eh. It was alright. Just a group project for my Sociology class. Nothing to write home about. I’m sure I’d have more fun with you.”

“I’m working, Logan.”

She couldn’t think about the kind of fun they could have, the kind of fun they _did_ have. Not right now. She was in the middle of a shift and he was still so close, too close.

“So?” He shrugs his broad shoulders.

She huffs in annoyance and before she can make a crack about how we can’t all be entitled rich boys living off the fortune of our fucked-up families, which they both know is coming, he stops her with a hand on her shoulder and the feeling is so insanely right that she can’t remember what’s keeping her from grabbing him and kissing him right here in front of the help desk. “Fine. I get it, you’re at work. Come out with me tonight.”

He doesn’t ask, he tells, and she’s not comfortable with anyone giving her orders, therefore who would she be if she didn’t at least try to protest? “I don’t know, Logan...”

Her voice trails off and there’s so much she can’t say. _I don’t know, Logan, what if I can’t keep my hands off you? I don’t know, Logan, what if we hurt each other again, worse than before? What if the damage is so irreparable this time, you’re actually out of my life forever? Can you live with that? Because I don’t think I can._

“Come on Veronica. Don’t make me drink alone. Dick and I were supposed to go out tonight and he canceled on me. Come out with me. As friends. I really have missed you. After the spring, I didn’t know if I’d ever get to talk to you again.”  


She knows he’s telling the truth. He’d left her enough drunken voicemails and sent enough apology texts over their five months apart to know he was being sincere, and she’d responded to none of them, which was childish and selfish and mean of her and she knew it. Plus, Logan wasn’t one to lie. He overreacted sometimes, sure, and his emotions were always so strong - anger, jealousy, fear, love - that they seemed to bubble out of him like they couldn’t be contained, like boiling water left in a pot too long that spills out over the sides, but he doesn’t hold back and he can’t pretend to feel something he doesn’t. It’s not in his DNA. But she’s not sure if “friends” is something she can be with Logan anymore. There’s so much history between them, so much passion. He knows things about her no one else does. She knows things about him she’ll never be able to forget.

Ever suspicious, she says, “I find it hard to believe that you have no better options than drinking with _me_ on a Friday night.”

She can’t help but quip with him when she feels cornered. It’s her best defense, the easiest way she can keep him at arm’s length.

“You know you’re always the best option to me, Veronica.”

Vulnerable Logan again. The sexiest Logan of them all. Well, maybe tied with Defending Her Honor Logan. Or Turned On Logan. When Logan Echolls was really worked up and panting for her and wanting her so bad it was like his hands had a mind of their own, like he was working on pure instinct, there was no topping that. He was a sight to behold. And to know that she could make him that way, that she had made him that way on more than one occasion, it was something she’d hold as a point of pride always. 

When she takes too long to respond, Vulnerable Logan makes his untimely exit. Jackass Logan rears his ugly (ok, _slightly_ less good looking) head. “Plus, you know, my girlfriend is having a girls’ night out tonight with her friends so I’m a free man.”

When she first hears the word, it stings. She had prepared herself for this moment, it’s hard to look at someone like Logan and imagine him being single for long, but he had been flirting with her and saying he missed her and touching her hair. And then he just mentions some girlfriend like it’s no big deal? Maybe she isn’t that big a deal to him. Veronica hates to admit to hoping that, but she is. She will not let him see any of that though. He can’t know she’s upset that he’s with someone new. In her world, honesty and vulnerability equate to weakness and weakness leads to pain, and she’s tired of hurting. So instead, she goes on the offensive:

“Girlfriend? Who is she?”

Because Logan might have many sides, but Veronica does too. All she needs is one piece of new information, one bone dangled just beyond her reach as if she is a hungry dog, and her investigative tendencies come out. She will find everything out about this person, whether Logan tells her or not. Having a goal distracts from the pain. 

His eyes flick with resistance for a moment, but he knows it’s futile, so he acquiesces. “Her name is Liz. She’s a year older than us. She’s really smart, a PoliSci Major. You’d like her.”

_Oh, how little you know me. Retract claws, Veronica._

Liz certainly sounds different than Logan’s usual fare. Accomplished, intelligent, ambitious. She sounds more like Veronica actually than the usual horde of bimbos Logan soothes his loneliness with. In fact, she sounds like the kind of woman Logan could have a real future with. Which is why she no longer wants to talk about her now, and potentially ever again. 

“So, there you go. I’m spoken for. Nothing to worry about. Just two old friends painting the town red. What do you say?”

It feels like this decision should be tougher, she knows that in her mind, especially now that she’s learned he’s seeing someone. She knows she should be torn about spending time with her ex, especially time that involves dark, intimate lighting, a crowded, smoky bar, and plenty of alcohol. She should be asking herself important questions. Will it be awkward? Will hearing about his new relationship be too much? Will my feelings for him (the ones that never actually left) come back and remind me that without him I could potentially be alone forever because there’s no one out there who could ever possibly understand me the way Logan does? Sure, she’s intelligent, she’s self-actualized, she knows she should be debating this. But honestly, she doesn’t care. She’s at his mercy and that just seems to be her normal. There’s never going to be a world where Veronica Mars doesn’t take the chance to spend the evening with Logan Echolls and the sooner she accepts that, the freer she imagines she’ll be. 

_So what **do** you say, Veronica?_

“Sure. Why not?”

“Yes.” He pumps his fist and looks to the ceiling, making her smile. It was sweet that he still pretended for both of their sakes that her saying no was ever an option. “Rusty’s at 9. Want me to pick you up?”

“No, that’s ok. I’ll meet you there.” She might have never even entertained the idea of saying no to him, but an escape route was something she knew she’d need on a night out with Logan. Having her own car is a non-negotiable.

He rolls his eyes. “Ever the control freak. This is going to be fun.” He tucks a stray hair behind her ear before he can think to stop himself and, while she would never admit it, she adores that loving gesture. Seconds pass between them as they look into each other’s eyes and if someone doesn’t break this spell soon, she’s going to give in and reach up and press her mouth against his...

Logan clears his throat. “I better get back to my group. I’m the smartest member.” He points to his chest with both thumbs, mischievous-little-boy-style.

“That is _not_ a good sign for your grade in Sociology.”

“I know, right? I’ll see you later, Veronica.” He walks backwards and shoots her a quick wave before he turns to make his way back to his group.

“Hey Logan!” She stage whispers, causing him to turn around and face her once again, and a few angry stares from studious pupils to flash her way. “Try not to have _too_ much fun. This _is_ a library.” 

He smiles and returns to his study group and she hasn’t been this happy about her job in the library in a long time...


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this chapter were inspired by images I couldn't get out of my head from the song "If the World Was Ending" by JP Saxe and Julia Michaels!

Veronica stands outside the door of Rusty’s, the most casual bar in the wealthy 09 district - a bit out of her usual price range, but perfect for a rich-but-not-pretentious guy like Logan. She’s suddenly hesitant, unsure if she should enter or not. The debate she should have had with herself earlier is finally kicking in and everything feels wrong. Her blonde hair, down and straightened now, is too fine. Her leather jacket is too tight, her red dress too revealing. Her black pumps are too high. 

_How are you going to run away from your demons wearing these, Veronica?_

But most of all, everything feels too real suddenly. Up until now, hanging out with Logan tonight had been an idea, an intangible concept. Not something she was actually doing. Until this moment. The rest of her shift at the library had been uneventful, and when she left at 7 and walked to the cafeteria to get a quick dinner before she headed home to her house to get ready, she felt borderline excited. Logan was fun, she’d reminded herself - smart and funny and charming. There were worse ways she could spend a Friday night. Even as she was getting ready, when she’d tried on four different pairs of underwear and about seven different outfits (so thankful that her dad wasn’t home to witness any of this - the bail jumper he was trying to track down before he reached Mexico would keep him out of the house until at least tomorrow night), knowing that they’d be sitting together, knees touching, fingers grazing, eyes locked felt so far from reality. But now, now she can see him through the window of the bar, sitting in the corner seat. He hasn’t changed his clothes since the library, she’s assuming he came here straight from there and started his own private party as soon as possible. Plus, why change when you already look perfect? He’s holding his whiskey glass between his thumb and forefinger, swirling its contents around. The seat next to him is empty, held for her by his suede jacket draped casually over the back, waiting for her to occupy it.

_So what are you going to do, Veronica? Break bread with the devil? Or run away...again?_

She opens the door with more force than necessary and saunters inside. Logan doesn’t notice her as she approaches so she takes advantage of that to study him a little more - he looks tense, his bottom half resting on the edge of the chair, left foot pumping up and down uncontrollably, eyes darting around the crowded bar. She takes some comfort in knowing that she is not the only one who is uneasy - but what is he uneasy about? Is he fearful she won’t show? Does he regret inviting her? Is he afraid of what he might do, how awkward this might be, or how awkward it won’t be? She wishes she could read his mind, but sadly, even her detective skills haven’t evolved into superhuman just yet. She throws her shoulders back defiantly, happy to at least have the upper hand in approaching him first.

“Is this seat taken?” She lowers her voice until it sounds as sultry as she can make it. 

“Sorry I’m waiting for my —“ He starts to respond on instinct and then his words catch in his throat as he sees her for the first time that night. His eyes widen as they scan up and down her body, as if he is taking in every inch of her and God does it feel good to know that she still affects him this way. He rakes his hand through the hair on the back of his head and gestures for her to take a seat as he takes another, bigger, sip of his drink. “Holy shit, Veronica. If I didn’t know you’d quit that life I’d ask if you came straight from working a case.”

_Maybe **you’re** the case I’m working._

She’s already at ease with Logan. He knows her so well, knows how she’d have to take on different personas and dress the part in order to follow leads and get information when working as a PI. He also knows that she dressed up for this, for him, and he doesn’t make her feel bad about it or self-conscious, just makes her feel...desirable. Alive.

“What, this old thing?” She waves her hand, dismissing the idea that this outfit is out of the ordinary for her and smiles at him. “So, what are you drinking? Maker’s Mark on the rocks?”

“The girl knows me well. You want your usual?”

“That would be great. Thanks. But you don’t have to pay —"

He stops her attempt to buy her own drinks by placing one hand in the air. “Please. I forced you to come out tonight. Drinks are on me.” He gestures toward the bartender and she comes over. She’s a tall, very attractive brunette with a wide smile and almond-shaped eyes and she looks completely smitten with Logan, but that, of course, is no surprise, especially since he’s flashing her his million-dollar smile. “Tiffany, love of my life, can I get another whiskey and a Coors Light in a bottle for my, uh, friend here?” 

Of course, he remembers Veronica’s “usual” order, aka the only thing she drinks when she’s in public, not that it’s anything of note. You only need to get drugged and raped after accepting a drink in an unmarked cup from a random stranger at a high school party once before you learn to only drink alcoholic beverages that you can be sure haven’t been touched by anyone but you. This is the history her and Logan share. This is why, in a way, they’re perfect together, and why they seem fated for destruction at the same time.

Tiffany smiles seductively at Logan and says, “Anything for my favorite customer,” before glaring at Veronica and working on getting their drinks.

_If she’s that mean to me, guess she doesn’t know about Liz._

“Well, that solves the mystery of how you get served around here, not being 21 and all.”

“You can take the girl out of the PI...” He winks at her.

Tiffany delivers their drinks, pushing her breasts together as she passes Logan his whiskey and flashes Veronica one more nasty look before leaving to check on a group of guys at the other end of the bar - most likely scrounging for tips, even though Logan had already given her a generous one.

Veronica holds her beer up to Logan and says, “Cheers. To new old friends.”

Logan clinks her bottle with his glass and jokes, “I just can’t quit you, Mars.”

These words hit her hard and make her wonder - Does she _want_ him to be able to quit her? Can she quit him? There’s a lingering static in the air between them so she’s almost positive the answer is no, and she hopes tonight will provide her with the insight she needs.

“So, Veronica. No cases, no Piz. How are you getting your kicks lately?”

“Biker bars mostly. I can’t explain it, those guys just love me.”

Logan laughs into his glass before bringing it to his lips and taking a sip. Every move he makes is calculated and cool, sometimes she just likes to sit back and watch him - it’s like he’s always putting on a show, whether he’s aware of it or not, and the rest of them are just spectators.

“I can think of a few reasons.”

She doesn’t want to show him how deeply his words affect her, and she tries desperately to keep a calm demeanor and control the blush that she can feel creeping up her neck to her cheeks. This is how Logan works - he likes to chip away at her bravado and get under her skin. She controls every situation, steers every interaction in the direction she wants it to go, except where he is concerned. Everything is different with him. The highs are higher, the lows are lower, and she loses more control than she’d like. But it’s hard to be angry about it when his words send shivers down her back and force her to become very aware of the blood pumping through her veins.

_If you ever need to be reminded that you have a pulse, Logan Echolls has got you covered, ladies._

“Well I’m sure my... _attributes_ are nothing compared to Liz’s.”

She doesn’t mean to sound bitchy or jealous - her purpose is straightforward. She needs to remind Logan of his relationship because she’s not going to be able to do this all night, this flirty back and forth that might be enjoyable and satisfying for him but has no chance of ending well for her.

He shrugs his shoulders absently, clearly not in the mood to talk about his girlfriend and Veronica is, well, honestly, she’s relieved. She’d accomplished her goal of diverting his attention, but she certainly didn’t want to hear all about the new girl who owns his heart.

“You gonna tell me what happened with Piz?”

“I wasn’t planning on it, no.”

What was there to tell? They weren’t together anymore. Veronica had gone to Virginia to complete her internship with the FBI last summer, an opportunity that truly excited and terrified her, and Piz had gone to New York for his internship at a radio station and they’d tried long distance for a while. It was fine at first, they lasted all through June and July. But in August, around her birthday, Piz came to visit her for the weekend, and she felt...nothing. She wasn’t unhappy to see him; she just wasn’t excited to see him either. She was more excited about what she’d been learning in her internship about the inner workings of the FBI and observing the interactions between coworkers (in her short time there, she’d already figured out at least six agents who were sleeping together and two others who were stealing office supplies, but she told no one, steadfast in her pledge not to take on cases anymore) than a visit from her boyfriend. And that made her feel awful, but not for Piz, for herself. Had she dried up already? Had she lost her passion, her sensuality, when it had barely just begun? She had to figure that out, but she knew Piz would not be the one to help her get there, so she ended things with him that weekend. He was sad, sadder than she could imagine him being when they hadn’t been together that long, but she had to admit that she didn’t always feel as deeply as other people, at least on the surface. When something or someone _really_ mattered to her, she felt deeper than anyone and that just furthered her realization that Piz was not right for her.

Logan rolls his eyes. “Ok, so then are you going to tell me why you kicked me out of your life and wouldn’t speak to me for months?”

“You know why, Logan.”

“Humor me.”

She returns his eye roll and sighs. She has finished her beer and Tiffany, despite her dislike for Veronica’s close proximity to Logan, is a good bartender and has already brought her another one. Veronica downs half of it quickly before answering his question. She’s not sure how honest she wants to be here. Revealing a lot about herself and her feelings is not something she’s comfortable with, but this whole night feels like a fresh start with Logan - a chance to be something they hadn’t actually been since before Lily died. Friends.

“I needed space, Logan. You were really out of line with what you did to Piz, even if you were trying to be noble. And then you beat up Gory for me and that was so stupid, so dangerous, I warned you that he was connected, and it was like you didn’t even hear me. Or care.”

“He _deserved_ it, Veronica. No one’s gonna talk to you like that.”

Her heart constricts in response to his words. “I know. And seeing you dole out your own version of justice was...pretty great.” She reaches out and rubs his hand with hers, wanting to show him that, deep down, she’d always be grateful for how he defended her - and she squeezes his hand before releasing it, maybe hoping to convey that it was quite possibly the hottest thing she’d ever seen, too. “But it was all so much, and it got so intense. I just needed to...do whatever.”

She stares into his eyes with a purpose, trying to see if he’ll remember those words. She’d said them to him in high school, after she’d run out on him during a particularly arousing make out session and before accusing him of murdering the girl they’d both loved.

_Great, Veronica, remind him of all the times you’ve treated him like garbage. That’ll make this night less awkward._

He remembers. She can tell by the slight smirk that forms on his lips at the memory. “Yeah, well, we’re not in high school anymore. It would have been nice if you had just told me that, instead of your usual bolt and dodge.”

He uses the same words he’d said to her in high school, when he’d asked her to be open with him and tell him when she got overwhelmed, when everything got to be too much, and she just needed time to herself. She smiles and looks at him through narrowed eyes. “Yeah, well, what do you expect from a heartless bitch like me?”

She throws back the rest of her second beer as she throws the words he used years ago back in his face, too, because this is a game they both can play. After all, that’s what he’d called her after she’d turned him in to the cops, and she had probably deserved it. The evidence that Logan had been Lily’s killer had been so strong though, she’d had to follow that lead, she’d owed it to her best friend. She was sorry she’d had to do it at Logan’s expense, of course, especially when the real killer had turned out to be his own father. There’s more of that shared history rearing its ugly head again.

“Eh. That’s a little dramatic. Anyone who calls you that is a lunatic.”

That elicits a genuine laugh from her at the memory. That is what she had called him after he’d assaulted her then-boyfriend Piz when he thought _he_ had been the one to distribute the sex tape of them together. He’d said the most honest thing he could, of course, to justify his behavior - the words still ring through her mind and she can still see his bruised face and hurt eyes - _Someone always has to pay...isn’t that the rule we live by?_ Even as she’d told him a moment later that he was out of her life forever, she’d loved that he’d called them a we, two damaged individuals who’d been through more than most people could bare and who shared a moral code, one of their own making. But she didn’t say any of that. She just left.

And that’s when she realizes that she’s _never_ felt so seen and so right during any conversation they’d ever had, both of them admitting their wrongdoings and shortcomings without covering them up with humor and snide comments. This did feel like growing up, and it felt so good to be doing it alongside Logan, someone who’d seen where she’d been and somehow still seemed to believe in where she could go.

“I’m sorry, Logan. I shouldn’t have just cut you out of my life. It wasn’t fair.”

He waves his hand in the air. “Bygones.”

Seeing that Veronica has finished her second beer, he gestures for Tiffany to get them another round. Logan has been drinking pretty hardcore since he was thirteen, but it still impresses her how well he can hold his liquor. She, on the other hand, hardly drinks and so is already feeling a slight buzz. The combination of their conversation and the alcohol makes her feel free, as if the weight of the world has been lifted off of her shoulders. It makes her brave. Brave enough to push her chair a little closer to his. Brave enough to cross her legs just to see if he will watch (he does). Brave enough to ask him a question she still wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to.

“So how long have you and Liz been together?”

_Damnit, Veronica, stop reminding him he has a girlfriend. You know, he knows, everyone at this bar knows by now._

But of course, she has to keep bringing up Liz. It’s the only thing that’s keeping her from leaning even closer to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck and breathing him in the way she wants to.

“We met over the summer, right around your birthday actually.”

Huh. She can’t help but balk at the fact that at the same time her relationship had been ending, Logan’s was just beginning.

“Dick, Chip, and I were out at a club and there was this group of girls dancing right next to us. Super loud, super drunk. Dick and Chip were all over them, naturally. I wasn’t really feeling it, thanks to present company, of course.” He gestures toward Veronica at that point and she takes a tiny bow, causing him to laugh like he did back in the library. She’s not surprised he was out with Dick and their frat buddy, Chip Diller, too many booze and too many women was how all three of them coped with sadness, but it wasn’t like Logan to take the easy way out, to just saunter up to a group of inebriated girls and settle for whichever one gave him her number first. She is oddly disappointed. She thought he liked more of a challenge than that.

“And then, off to the side, I see this woman just sitting alone at a table. She’s with them, but not, you know? She just looks kind of over it. I figured she looked the way I felt, so I went and talked to her. We’ve been together ever since.” He shrugs his shoulders again, either not really caring how romantic that story was, or not wanting to let on that he thought it was romantic, she couldn’t tell. No matter, now she finds herself disappointed that he didn’t just settle for one of the nameless drunk girls. No, he had chosen this one for a reason. He had sought out the lone wolf in the pack, found a kindred spirit. She can’t seem to shake the feelings of sadness and jealousy settling in her chest.

_Great Veronica, so now you’re becoming one of those girls who won’t date the guy but doesn’t want to see anyone else date him either. You mock those girls. You hate those girls._

“Well, I mean, it’s not as sweet as seeing her in her soccer uniform and thinking she’s hot, but it’s a nice story.” She flutters her lashes at him exaggeratedly and he laughs again, staring off into space as he relives the memory of admitting to Veronica that he thought she was hot when he’d first met her in her soccer uniform at the age of twelve.

“ _That_ was a great but probably ineffective uniform. Those shorts were so short.”

When he closes his eyes for a moment, she smacks his chest and laughs as she says, “Ok, perv, relax.”

“Hey, you brought it up. You don’t still have those shorts, do you?”

“Um, no. I’m pretty sure I burned that uniform when I decided I’d rather cheer for the teams than be on them. Go, Pirates!” She loves to be sarcastic with Logan and mock her former self whenever she can. She had been so innocent once, so chaste. And now...well, now she’s wearing four-inch heels and sitting dangerously close to her ex-boyfriend as she takes eager gulps of her third beer. Or is it her fourth? This is not a good sign; she’s losing count of her drinks and sight of her inhibitions.

“Oh, yeah, the pep squad uniform. I had so many impure thoughts about you in _that._ ”

Veronica scoffs. “Yeah. ‘We’ve got spirit, yes we do, we’ve got spirit, like the view?’”

“You don’t still have that one, do you?”

“Logan.” She looks at him like he is a misbehaving child, which, nine out of ten times he is, and that is truly one of the reasons being with him is so much fun. No matter how much pain Logan has seen, all the loss he’s experienced, he is still able to find humor and sometimes even joy in life. And that can be infectious, especially when you’re as skeptical and cynical as she is. “Now you’re just being _ridiculous._ Why would I have that?”

“A boy can dream.”

“Hmmm, now that you mention it, it would make a good Halloween costume...” She purses her lips and taps her index finger against them, pretending to be considering this option.

“Hey, don’t write checks your body can’t cash, Mars.” He points at her very seriously, as if her Halloween costume is a life or death situation.

She leans in and places her mouth just to the side of his ear, whispering breathily, “You worried about what my body can do, Logan?” She pulls away from him slightly and looks up into his big brown, puppy dog eyes. They’re glazed over with lust, it’s unmistakable, and he swallows. She’s not usually like this, so brazen, so suggestive, but the bar is so dark, and his shirt is so tight, and he smells so good that it’s impossible not to test the waters. She can tell he likes the way she’s acting, she knows the signs, can read the body language, and maybe she should stop playing with him this way, but she can’t. It’s such a role reversal, she’s so used to having to steel herself to his come-ons, his innuendo, his sexual energy, that is feels amazing to be the one giving for a change.

He finally responds to her with a deliberate shake of his head, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he speaks, “Never. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you in action, Bobcat. I can vouch for what that body can do.”

“Eyewitness testimony.”

“Exactly.”

She leans back in her chair and gives Logan a narrow-eyed look. “The defense rests.”

Logan chuckles. “Please. We both know you’re the prosecution. And judge. And jury. Possibly the stenographer.”

He ticks off each of her roles on his fingers and Veronica throws her head back and laughs. With all this drinking and reminiscing and flirting, she can’t remember the last time she’s felt this free, this light. Why can’t it always be this way? Maybe if she doesn’t let him go from her life this time, it can be. She wants him to know how good she’s feeling, how much this time they’re spending together means to her, so before she can second guess herself or try to be less than direct, she says, “This is honestly so fun, Logan. We should do this again next weekend.”

His smile is so bright she almost has to shield her eyes when looking directly at him. _She_ brought that smile to his face, her, Veronica. Even with her accusations and her overreactions and her suspicions, she can make him happy. She wants to capture this moment in a photograph and put it in a file marked, “Echolls, Logan - Positive Responses” or something like that, but she doesn’t do that anymore, she reminds herself for the thousandth time.

Within a second, his smile turns into a frown of almost equal measure. “Can’t. I’m spending next weekend in Napa with the girlfriend.” He says it in the same tone that one might use when reporting they’re getting a root canal or a colonoscopy.

She doesn’t know if it’s the ache in her chest from remembering how handsome and charming he is all over again or the four beers she’s had in the last hour, but something emboldens her enough to say, “That thought shouldn’t make you so unhappy.”

“It really shouldn’t,” he says on an exhale, his eyes moving down to her hands, resting mere inches from his on the bar. All he would need to do is reach out one index finger and they’d be touching. He stares back into her eyes then with a look that is so honest, so sincere, it makes her shiver and he says, “But it does.”

The vibe between them has gone from flirtatious to full-on longing. She is so tempted at that moment to grab his face and kiss him harder than she’s ever kissed him before, to show him that the thought makes her sad too, disappointed that he’s moved on so quickly even though she has no right to be, but she knows she can’t. That would be selfish and wrong - he’s in a relationship, they’re working on a friendship - so she fights that urge with all her might. Instead, she does something that allows her the intimacy and connection of touching him, but not the genuine wrongness that kissing him would fall under - she runs her fingers through his hair, tugging slightly, as their eyes remain locked and says, “Your hair has gotten longer since we...”

She lets her voice trail off because she realizes the mistake she has made, and the word ‘dated’ would have only made it worse. Running her fingers through his hair floods her mind with memories - her meeting him at the beach after a morning of surfing when he would shake his wet hair at her and make her laugh, his wetsuit unzipped and halfway off as she would imagine removing the rest of it; the one time in freshman year of high school when she tried to give him a haircut and didn’t say anything about the erection she saw in his pants when she blew the stray hairs off his neck; the first time he went down on her, when she was so overcome with passion and excitement that she gripped the hairs on his head as if they were her only lifeline, the pleasure so great she feared she might float away and so holding onto him was the only thing that grounded her to Earth. These images flash through her mind like a slideshow of her life, reminding her what a big part of it he is, a staple in all her best and worst memories in some way or another.

She can tell that her action has done the same for him and that he is picturing his own memories - that is something no one can take away from you, after all; the way you remember your past is yours alone. You can glorify it, deface it, regret it, but you can’t forget it. She’s not sure what memories his subconscious has conjured up, but his eyes dart back and forth from her left to her right, down to her mouth, and even lower still, until he covers her hand with his and pulls hers down into his lap, interlocking their fingers, and watching as he does so - as if his hand has a mind of its own. She knows this too well. Turned On Logan is here and she hopes he doesn’t notice her quick intake of breath at his arrival.

_Mistake, really Veronica? You knew this would happen. Now, are you going to admit you wanted it to or are you going to live in denial like a coward?_

“Let’s get a table.” His voice is husky and breathy and there’s a longing in his eyes that she’s seen before. He wants privacy, he wants her to himself, and sitting at a crowded bar does not afford them that. She nods and realizes their fingers are still intertwined because suddenly he’s dragging her along to the restaurant side of the establishment and asking the hostess something in hushed tones and then leading her to a secluded table all the way in the back corner. It’s one of those round tables that looks like it’s made for parties of six or more, but he releases her hand and slides into the booth, gesturing for her to follow and she does, knowing all too well where this is going but realizing that, for the moment at least, she doesn’t care. “That’s better. Now I don’t have to compete with all those guys staring at you at the bar. I finally have you all to myself.” His voice and chin go up at the end of his sentence and he gives her a smug but boyish close-lipped smile and he is so High School Logan in that moment that she can’t help but flirt back with him.

“So then what are you going to do with me?” She bats her lashes and stares into his eyes, parting her lips slightly to look as innocent and pure as possible, her own version of High School Veronica, but they both know he fucked that girl out of her a long time ago. She’d seen so much, done so much with him, always safe to experiment with Logan as her guide. He had no hang-ups when it came to sex, no fear, no insecurities, and he _worshipped_ her body, made her feel sacred and dirty at the same time. It was a true gift. But she has to admit, despite all that, it feels good to revisit her old self from time to time, the girl whose best friend wasn’t murdered, the girl who wasn’t the victim of sexual assault, the girl whose alcoholic mother didn’t leave. Of all the friends in her life, only Logan knows _this_ Veronica and that realization just bolsters her resolve to keep him in her life.

But Logan doesn’t seem happy anymore. He’s not playful or excited. It’s as if something between them has changed and she’s not sure what it is. She’d been flirting with him at the bar and he’d given it right back. Why were things different now? She didn’t know the answer, but there’s no denying they were. He’s gripping the table hard with both hands and his eyes flash with anger. “ _Don’t_ do that, Veronica. Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish. You’ve been doing it all night and I don’t deserve that. Not from _you._ ”

_Excuse me?_

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me just fine.”

“Oh, I heard you. I just can’t _believe _you. You’ve been flirting with me all night. All _day_ actually. And I’m not allowed to do it? That’s ridiculous.”__

____

____

“It’s not the same and you know it.”

“I don’t think I do. I have no idea what you’re even talking about.” Her voice rises along with her blood pressure. He always does this, brings out the fighter in her. She can’t let things slide with Logan and he doesn’t let things slide with her. When you love someone, you demand their best from them at all times, and they certainly demanded a lot from each other.

_When you love someone? Really, Veronica?_

He scoffs, too angry to speak. She doesn’t know how they started going down this road, but she’s not one to back down from a fight, especially not a fight with Logan. What he was saying made no sense. If they’re supposed to be friends then they should be able to joke around with each other, to share in their memories, particularly the sexy ones that make them both blush. It can’t all be _him_ making _her_ squirm with sexual innuendo - that’s a power trip that she did not sign up for. Veronica Mars will never be a victim again, no matter what the situation.

“ _Tell_ me what you meant, Logan. I’m serious.”

When he doesn’t answer, she grabs her purse and starts to push herself out of the booth. Unfortunately, it’s hard to look indignant as you attempt to slide bare thighs across a red polyester seat, but she’s not going to sit here and be chastised like a child or held to some antiquated double standard where men can flirt willy-nilly but women are expected to control themselves and be demure. She’ll be demure when she’s dead. Until then, fuck that and fuck Logan Echolls.

“Wait.” He reaches out and rests his hand on the skin just above her knee, stopping her cold. She turns her body to face him but doesn’t come closer to him on the seat. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need your apologies, Logan. I need to know what you meant.”

He sighs but doesn’t take his hand off her leg. She doesn’t want him to either. Her drinks all went to her head very suddenly as she tried to move so quickly from the booth and the weight of his hand on her skin is bringing her comfort, despite her anger and confusion.

“Veronica.” He says her name as he always does, like a benediction. “When I flirt with you, it’s not because it’s some game. I want you. I always have and I always will. If it were up to me, we’d be out of this bar already and on our way to my place. I don’t ‘joke around’ with you. I _ache_ for you. So when you...it hurts. That’s what I meant, ok?”

Veronica realizes that she is not the only one feeling the effects of the alcohol she consumed tonight.

A curvy waitress with a dead smile that shows how tired she is, likely from all the asshole customers she’s had to endure tonight, chooses this moment to approach their table to take their drink order. Noticing Veronica is basically out of the booth, instead she asks, “Oh, are you guys ordering or leaving?”

Logan looks at Veronica expectantly. She looks at the waitress, gives her a pleasant smile, and says, “We’re ordering. Can we have fries and sliders, please? And another round of drinks - Coors Light in a bottle for me, unopened, and Maker’s Mark for him. Thanks.” She shimmies back in her seat as the waitress goes to put their order in, ending up even closer to Logan this time so that her right knee and his left knee are touching.

“Guess we’re staying for a bit.” He smiles at her, so clearly filled with relief that she can’t help but smile back - it’s like a reflex when she’s this close to him. His words from a moment ago still hang in the air, none of the magic dulled by the server’s appearance.

She looks into his eyes and sees so much emotion there, she hopes it’s mirrored in her own. She’s never been one to be open or talk about her feelings, she’s seen so many people do so many horrible things, so many others made to look like fools at the hands of someone who was supposed to love them that it’s practically turned her off to love entirely, but there’s always been something about Logan that makes her want to try. She is who she is, she always will be, but his ability to fight for love after all he’s been through inspires her, even though she’d never admit that to him. And he seems to be fighting for her now, and she decides she’s ready to fight for him too. There’s just one little problem...

“Logan, I...” She looks down at her hands as she gathers her thoughts. “I care about you, too. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. It’s just...” His lips turn down in a frown at her words. She’s saying it all wrong. He thinks she’s ending this, whatever this is. “I just mean, you’re the one with the girlfriend here.” She hopes she makes her point with that concise statement because there are so many other thoughts swirling around in her head right now that she fears she’ll sound insane if she tries to let them all out at once.

His lower lip drops down and he moves closer to her so that their faces are mere inches apart. She can smell the alcohol on his breath as he exhales mixed with his cologne and it’s intoxicating. She wants to breathe all of him in, she wants him this close to her forever. She closes her eyes for a moment, but he forces them back open by cupping her chin with his hand. He traces her lips with his fingers. She wants to kiss him so badly, but she would never do that. She’s seen too many cheaters betray their loved ones; she could never be one. But he’s so close to her, so close. She wants this. She wants _him._

“Hey, if I thought for one second that I had a chance to be with you again, that girlfriend would cease to exist.”

His words play over and over in her mind. Is this what she wants? She knows she can’t do this to him if she’s not serious. She’d be asking him to throw away his relationship with someone who might be very good for him. A normal, healthy relationship. For her. And he’d do it.

And that’s when Veronica realizes that’s how it’s always been with Logan. He has always put her first. More memories flash through her mind - him grabbing her hand and calling her his girlfriend in front of all his rich 09er friends when their secret relationship was revealed junior year, telling them if they had a problem with Veronica they were dead to him and knowing he meant it; him coming to her rescue and punching a strange man in the face when she was being accosted at the Camelot Motel; him apologizing to Piz for wrongfully accusing him of making the sex tape; and that same day, him, pummeling a guy with familial connections to the Russian mob in front of a cafeteria full of witnesses after that guy threatened her and called her a bitch. She would never come second to anyone else where Logan was concerned. He would put himself on the line for her any day. The least she can do is put her heart on the line for him.

_Isn’t this why you came here, Veronica? Isn’t this exactly what you were hoping would happen?_

She glances at his lips again, so close to hers, and bites her lower lip. He is irresistible and she’s tired of resisting, anyway.

“Logan? You always have a chance with me.” She whispers her words, ensuring this moment is theirs alone, a new memory to add to all the ones she’s been collecting.

He rests his forehead against hers for a moment as he digs for something in his pocket. He pulls out his cell phone and moves away from her slightly as he presses a couple buttons, holds the phone to his ear with just his forefinger and thumb, looking so cool like he always does. They’re still so close, she can hear the woman’s voice on the other end say, “Hey Babe,” when she answers his call. Never looking away from Veronica, he says coolly into the phone, “Liz. We’re done.” Without another word or a second thought, he disconnects the call and returns the phone to its place in his pocket, that part of his life now forgotten and tucked away just as neatly. He can be a jackass, truly, but he’s her jackass and she wouldn’t change him even if she could.

In response, Veronica does the only thing she can think to do in this moment, the thing she’s been wanting to do all night, the same thing she did the first time he stunned her with an heroic gesture and words were just not enough to express her gratitude - she plants the quickest kiss on the corner of his mouth and then pulls back to assess his reaction. Just as they did that first time all those years ago, his eyes search hers, for permission, for regret, for lust, she’s not sure what, but she knows that, no matter what he’s looking for, all he’ll find in her eyes right now is love.

Finally, FINALLY, he rests one hand on the small of her back and grabs her hair with the other, pulling her body flush with his, and he kisses her. It’s hungry, his kiss, like he’s been traveling in the desert for months and she’s a glass of ice-cold water and he can’t get enough. She runs her hands through the hair at the nape of his neck and he growls into her mouth and it sends shockwaves through her system. She forgot she could feel this good, forgot she could make someone else feel this good. It had never been like this with Piz - it had never been like this with anyone but Logan. She’s somewhat aware of the faint sound of their drinks and food being placed on the table but she is sure she has never cared less about anything in her entire life. All she wants is to kiss Logan, to crawl inside of him and make him hers again, to hear him whisper her name in her ear as he comes apart inside her. She tucks her leg in between his, she’s close to straddling his lap but she doesn’t care, she needs the friction. He moves his hand from the small of her back and caresses her leg, his thumb resting on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh while the rest of his fingers grip her skin. She rocks slightly back and forth against his leg, the rough denim of his jeans feeling like heaven against her soft skin and he groans. “Easy, Bobcat.” He whispers into her mouth, desperate not to lose contact with her. His words and his use of his old nickname for her only ignite her fire more, perhaps that’s what he was going for, and she runs one hand across his chest, pulling at his shirt with her nails and down to his stomach, stopping just above his belt.

She pulls away from him just enough to whisper to him, “We should get out of here.”

He gives her a wicked smile and says, “But I’m having so much fun.” 

And he begins to suck on the spot on her neck just above her collarbone that drives her absolutely crazy and she swears she blacks out for a minute before she comes to her senses and says, “Me too. But we could have more _fun_ elsewhere.”

He pulls back to look at her and she tries her own version of a suggestive smile and kisses his chin.

“Ok.” He plants a quick kiss on her lips. “You’ve convinced me. Let’s go.”

Graceful as ever, Logan wraps one arm around her waist and pulls both of them out of the booth together, her legs still wrapped around his and her arms around his neck. He sets her down gently and pulls out three hundred-dollar bills from his wallet and throws them down on the table. Their waitress passes by and Logan says, “This should cover everything,” and that’s it. Before she realizes what’s happening, they’re outside of Rusty’s and in the parking lot and Logan has pressed her up against the side of his black Range Rover and is kissing her again, his hands resting now on the skin just below her breasts, his thumbs rubbing circles against the silky fabric of her dress.

“Logan,” she says, and her voice is so deep and husky she’s not sure if she’s ever sounded like this before. He hears it too, the urgency, the need, and he looks into her eyes, completely serious. So, of course, she has to joke. “We should have taken the food.”

They laugh together, sounding so much like friends and lovers it drives her insane. This is how it should always have been, how it should always be.

“I’ll get you more food. Anything you want, Veronica.”

They kiss for a few more minutes before she comes up for air. She grips the neckline of his Henley in her fists and says, “Ok. Take me somewhere.”

“Where to?”

“My place.”

A shiver runs down Logan’s spine, and not in the good way. “Oh, no no. A run-in with your dad is _not_ what I need right now.”

“He’s not home. He’s on a case. Until tomorrow.” She kisses him again, hoping that what she’s trying to say is transferred better with actions than words - _spend the night with me._

“Never thought I’d be so thankful for the felons of the world.” He smiles at her and helps her into the car, stealing one more kiss before moving around to the driver’s side. She won’t even deign to ask him if he’s sober enough to drive, she knows he is and he would never risk her safety for a second.

They spend the whole ride holding hands and stealing kisses when they come to red lights, as if both of them are afraid that if they stop physical contact for a second, this bubble will burst and this night will be over. It’s not a long drive to her dad’s house from Rusty’s, but it feels like an eternity to Veronica. She can’t be as close to him as she wants to be in this car, she can’t run her hands up and down his arms, she can’t throw her head back as he kisses her neck...

“Hey. We’re here.”

She didn’t realize they were parked in front of her house as Logan’s words interrupt her passionate thoughts about him and she can’t help but smile to herself.

_Wow, Veronica, you’re fantasizing about the guy and he’s right next to you. Yeah, you’re doing great._

He’s looking at her with fear in his eyes as he holds his door open but doesn’t presume to get out of the car. He’s worried that she’s having second thoughts about this, she can tell. He feels like he’s on borrowed time, like any minute now she’ll come to her senses and tell him to leave, this was a mistake, she can’t do this. This is all her doing, his apprehension, his uncertainty. She’s done this to him so many times, left him hanging when he’s thrown his heart on the line. She flashes back to a time at the end of Senior Year when he opened his heart to her, telling her he wanted to be with her, that he thought their story was epic, and when he’d tried to kiss her that night, she’d run away. She’d left him there, rejected and alone, instead of telling him what she felt - that even though she was afraid, she wanted him, too. That no one had ever ignited her passion like him. That even though she knew it would be hard, she wanted to fight for them, for him. Because all relationships are hard but theirs would be worth it. Like he’d said, _no one writes songs about the ones that come easy._

She has to make up for her past now, has to make sure he knows that she’s in this, she’s not going to stop this now and she’s not going to regret it tomorrow. She’s sure.

“Well then, what are you waiting for? Let’s go.” She leans into him and places a soft kiss to his lips and puts her hand over his heart before she turns to exit the car. Again, she finds herself hoping that her actions convey the meaning of the words she’s not saying - _this is safe with me this time._

Before she can start the walk to her front door, he takes a few big steps and is around the driver’s side and has picked her up, spinning her around, just like he used to do in high school. He’s such a presence, when he holds her in his arms, he’s somehow _always_ everywhere. She laughs and kisses any part of his face she can reach.

“Let’s go, Logan. You’re delaying the inevitable.” She wraps her legs around his waist and points toward the door.

“I’ve always been my own worst enemy.” He doesn’t let her down as she expects him to, but rather carries her all the way to the front door, not even releasing her to let her unlock it and let them inside, merely bending her down for easy access.

“Do you plan on putting me down ever?” She asks playfully, not really hating how delicate and precious she feels in his arms.

He pretends to consider this for a moment before he shakes his head and says, “Probably not.”

“Hm. This is going to make dinners with my dad super awkward.”

“Now who’s delaying the inevitable?”

“Everyone always said you were a bad influence on me.”

He growls and kisses her as they stumble through the door together and he kicks it closed, never disconnecting his eyes or his lips from hers. Her loyal and protective Pitbull, Backup, who probably loves Logan even more than he loves her, greets him with excited barks and licks, as happy to see him as he always was. Logan can’t help but to bend down and show the dog some love, and Veronica appreciates that about him, but there is a task at hand, and this is not the time for canine reunions or subtlety.

“Backup, chill. Couch!”

She snaps her fingers and points toward the living room. The dog gives Logan one last defiant lick (must run in the family) before following the order he was given by jumping up and settling himself on the couch.

Logan carries Veronica to the kitchen counter and sets her down atop it, staring into her eyes with such ferocity, it’s more intoxicating than the beers she’s had tonight, probably more so than all the beer in the world. “I love when you’re bossy.” He kisses the tip of her nose to emphasize his point.

“Good. Kiss me.”

It never ceased to amaze Veronica that it was the worst parts of her personality that seemed to turn Logan on the most - her fiery anger, her jealousy, her tendency to bark orders. She could say the same for him - she loved when he was possessive, vengeful, dismissive. She didn’t know if that meant that what they had was healthy or not, but it sure as hell made it real.

“Happily.” Logan kisses her then, slow and sensual at first, and even after all the kisses they’ve shared tonight, this one is different - it’s as if he’s relearning her, exploring her mouth, as if there’s some kind of buried treasure inside her and he won’t rest until he finds it. His fingers are in her hair and then they travel down her back and rest just above the curve of her ass where he grasps her hips as he deepens the kiss even more and all she knows is his tongue and his fingers and his lips. Thoughts are running through her mind as she kisses him back, determined to match his intensity, his need for her. She wants to just give in to this moment, but she had breakfast on this counter just this morning, certainly her bedroom would be a better place for this...

She’s about to tell him as much when he moves his mouth to her neck and finds the spot just behind her ear that somehow no one else is ever able to find and just like that she’s coming undone.

_Guess we’re not gonna make it past the kitchen._

She starts pulling at his shirt like an animal, trying to get it off of him without breaking their contact and growling when she finds that impossible. Logan laughs into her neck but when he stops as if to make a joke and looks into her eyes all humor drains from his face. She has no idea what she looks like, but she imagines it’s as hungry and needy as she feels because Logan starts undressing her with a fervor. He pulls the leather jacket off her shoulders and tosses it in the direction of the living room before he attacks the straps of her dress, pulling them down so forcefully it’s like they’ve wronged him in some way. Suddenly her breasts are exposed and all she can think about is feeling his mouth and skin on them, so she yanks his shirt off his body and over his head as quickly as she can, throwing it into the sink off to her left. His body is...it’s impossible to describe, it’s so good. His arms are muscular and powerful, his chest has the lightest sprinkling of hair across it, his stomach is chiseled like fine marble and somehow, by some miracle, he wants her. He wants to bring her pleasure, wants to work her body until she can’t breathe. This man, who could literally have anyone he wants, who up until 30 minutes ago _had_ someone he wanted, will still choose her every time.

She takes his face in her hands again and kisses him hard, caressing his lips and mouth with her tongue, trying to show him how perfect she finds him. His hands cup and massage her breasts and she hisses at how good it feels. But then he replaces his hands with his mouth, and everything shifts. Veronica arches her back, she can’t not, and swings her head back as she feels him take each breast into his mouth in turn. He sucks on them with just the right amount of pressure, flicking her erect nipples with his tongue, as she grips his hair and she can’t help but moan at the pure beauty of it all. While his mouth is busy, his hands are running up the outside of her thighs, pulling her dress up with them as they graze her body until her dress is just a bunched-up strip of fabric covering her stomach. He steps back from her a bit so he can watch her as he removes her underwear (and, man, is she glad she had the foresight to go with the black lacy ones), his eyes confirming with her that this is ok without either of them having to say a word. She nods at him, ever so slightly, and her underwear is off her body and tucked into the pocket of his jeans before she can make fun of him for that Neanderthal move.

Logan grabs her legs by the backs of her knees and, in complete contrast to the urgency of his movements earlier, parts them so slowly it’s like the sweetest torture she’s ever known. He just stares at her mostly naked body for a while and if he didn’t have the most loving look in his eyes, one of almost disbelief, she’d be completely uncomfortable and insecure right now. But it’s Logan and for whatever reason, he loves her, and so she just scoots her body as close to the edge of the counter as she can, hoping she knows what’s coming next.

Logan looks into her eyes and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She reaches forward and grabs for his belt buckle, so aware of what she wants her fingers shake, but he takes her hands in his to stop her. He kisses each of her wrists before resting her hands on the counter, gently maneuvering her until she’s leaning back on her elbows and removes his jeans and boxers. She realizes they haven’t said a word to each other in minutes, but that’s because no words would do justice to their situation right now. They are both people of action, whether when seeking revenge or seeking love, and their hands and bodies are making more sense right now than their words ever could.

Still looking into her eyes, Logan grabs her under her thighs and lifts her lower body ever so slightly off the counter. He kisses the inside of both of her thighs, nipping and sucking lightly on the sensitive skin. She can’t stifle her intake of breath as he does this, the move is so erotic, so hot, that she feels utterly consumed by him, as if he is a fire she cannot put out. She is so ready for him, so aroused, she can feel the tension in every inch of her body. Finally, his mouth meets her center and she cries out. He swirls his tongue around her clit in frantic circles, his fingertips gripping her ass so hard she’s sure he’s leaving bruises on her milky skin. He moves his thumbs around and uses them to part her even more as his lips and tongue continue their attack on her core, every sound escaping her lips, every pant, every cry of pleasure just making him work harder for her. She knew this was coming, the worship, the genuine pride he seems to elicit from making her call out his name as she comes and before she can even wrap her head around what’s happening, she’s doing just that, chanting his name over and over as her body jerks and she rides out the endless waves of pleasure. His eyes are on her all the while, wide and open, as if he still can’t believe that she gives herself to him like this. But she can’t understand why he’d be surprised - doesn’t he know how good he is at this? How good he makes her feel? She knows he’s been mistreated by all the women who were supposed to love him - abandoned by his mother, whose suicide left him helpless and alone with an abusive father; used by his first girlfriend Lily, whose philandering ways made him constantly question his own self-worth; neglected and mocked by his sister, whose selfishness was unparalleled; and, of course, abandoned again by her, Veronica, the one person whose love he desired more than anyone else’s, the one person he’d strived to be better for.

_Maybe it’s time for a little show **and** tell, Veronica._

As her breathing returns to normal, she leans forward and wraps her arms around his neck, determined to make him understand the power he has.

“Logan.” Before she can say more, she kisses him, tasting herself on his tongue and feeling her want for him begin to pool once more in her lower belly. She wraps her legs around him, resting her heels on his ass, and pulls him toward her so that their bodies are flush. She loves the feel of his rough chest against her skin and she can feel his erection pressing into her stomach. She wants to feel him inside of her so badly, to fill her as only he can, but she needs to tell him how much she cares first. She glides her thumbs across his cheeks as she holds his head in her hands. “You are.” She kisses his forehead. “So amazing.” She kisses his chin. “And no one.” She kisses each of his cheeks. “Makes me feel like you do.” She kisses his mouth, intending for it to be quick because there’s so much more she wants to tell him about his hands and his mouth and his body. But she thinks they’re done with the confessional part of the evening because he tastes so good and he’s so close to her and she’s so wet for him again for God’s sake so instead of saying anything at all, she trails her fingers down his stomach while they kiss, but this time she doesn’t stop and she takes him in her hands and begins stroking him ever so gently until he’s practically mewling into her mouth.

“Veronica.” Her name escapes his lips on a sigh as he breaks their kiss and moves her hands away. He lines himself up with her center and just rubs her with the tip of him and she convulses a little, so sensitive, so ready, but he stops there, and he won’t move again until she looks at him. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she sees tears in his eyes as he says, “I _can’t_ lose you again.”

“You won’t.”

She looks into his eyes. They’re the darkest she’s ever seen them and there are so many emotions coursing through them right now as they search hers that she feels overwhelmed. He’s pleading with her silently before they go any further tonight. She knows what he wants to hear - that she’s not going anywhere, that this isn’t a one-time thing and she won’t run off at the first signs of trouble, that she’s going to accept him for who he truly is, warts and all. True intimacy. Yes, she knows what he wants and still she struggles to give it to him. Not because she doesn’t feel it. Of course, she loves him, she knows she does, how could she not? Loving him has never been a question - it’s saying those three words that she finds insurmountable. Other than her dad, everyone she’s said those words to has left - her mom, her first boyfriend Duncan, Lily. Those words somehow feel tainted to her, and she doesn’t want to risk what she has with Logan. Losing him would be...well, it would be impossible. But if she doesn’t open up to him and let him know how she feels, she might lose him anyway, and then he’d be gone, never knowing the magnitude of her feelings for him. Veronica Mars, the person who believes in justice above all else, would be committing the most unjust act of all - hiding her true feelings from the man she loves.

_Time to let him know how you feel, Veronica. No better time than the present - buck naked on your kitchen counter._

The corner of her mouth turns up in a small smile as she looks deeply into his eyes. “I love you, Logan.”

He rests his forehead against hers and closes his eyes, relief causing all the tension in his shoulders to melt away as he almost collapses against her body. “Say it again,” he whispers in her ear.

“I love you.” The words slip out so easily from her now and it’s as if by saying them their passion is not only reignited, it’s multiplied. She bites his shoulder hard to remind him of their purpose here and he groans as he lines their bodies up once again. Before she can say the words a third time, excited by the possibility of what _that_ might draw out of him, he is inside her, and all her thoughts and fears and memories melt away as she becomes grounded to this moment. All she hears are the sounds of their bodies joining together, the moans and pants escaping from both of their lips. All she sees is the concentration on his face as he once again works to bring her ultimate pleasure. All she tastes is the salt of his skin as she places open mouth kisses all over his neck and shoulders while he thrusts in and out of her. All she feels is Logan - over her, around her, within her. He is everywhere and everything to her in this moment. And when she hears him whisper that he loves her too, she knows she is everything to him and she finds her release, secure in the knowledge that he is her past, her present, _and_ her future.


End file.
